


The Start Of A (Not Really) Terrible Day

by batsy_rocks



Series: daddy!bats is love [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Terrible Patient, Caretaking, Families of Choice, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is a Good Son, Kind of fluffy, Light Angst, Protective Jason Todd, Sick Character, Sick Fic, Tea, This is what happens when Alfred isn't home, Whump, but that's a good thing this time, sick bruce wayne, they're trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 01:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batsy_rocks/pseuds/batsy_rocks
Summary: Alfred finally gets a vacation. Bruce is sick and miserable. Jason shows up at the Manor unexpectedly.And that's just the beginning.





	The Start Of A (Not Really) Terrible Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is specially dedicated to the people who left comments and kudos in my previous Jason & Bruce fics. Thank you for that, and I hope you enjoy this one as well :D

Bruce woke up with a start, disoriented and shivering. It took him several blinks and a moment longer to recognize he was in the den rather than his bedroom or the cave, lying on the sofa with one of the thin, soft blankets Alfred kept in the room covering his aching body.

He sat up with a groan, massaging his stiff neck as he continued shivering. The sofa may be the most comfortable piece of furniture money could buy, but it was still a sofa, and as much as hated to admit it he wasn't as young as he used to be.

Bruce wrapped the blanket around his body and stood slowly. The dizziness that hit him forced him to stand still as he gripped the sofa for support. He moved a couple of minutes later, and couldn't stop from cursing the ridiculous size of the Manor with every step he took, thinking that maybe staying down here last night had been a good call even if he didn't remember deciding to do so.

It was just his luck, really, to get sick two days after Alfred left for a week-long trip to England.

A sudden coughing fit made him stop to lean against the wall, barely resisting the urge to just slide to the floor and lay there. By the time the cough finally passed his head was pounding harder than before and he had to rest one more time before moving again.

It felt like hours before he finally reached the kitchen, intending to look for something to help with his sore, dry throat. He should maybe heat some water to make tea, no matter how much he hated the idea of moving. Surely something hot would be better than drink just a glass of water. Alfred wasn't much of a fan of tea bags, but Bruce was sure they must have a box or two around somewhere in the pantry.

He stopped at the threshold of the kitchen, blinking at the sight before his red-rimmed eyes. "Jason?"

"Bruce," The young man called back without taking his attention away from the pot in the oven.

"What are you doing here?" He rasped.

That did make the boy turn around, an eyebrow arched. "I thought you said I could come by whenever I wanted."

"Of course," Bruce replied immediately. Jason had turned his attention back to whatever he was stirring in the pot, so Bruce's gaze slide to the leather jacket hanging on the back of a stool and the cell phone lying on the counter. He was snapped out of his daze by Jason's voice.

"You look like crap."

"Thanks," He said dryly, rubbing a hand across his face. If he looked as disgusting and awful as he felt, he didn't even want to think about it. He coughed a little and pulled the blanket more tightly around his body.

"You should sit down, old man." Jason eyed him, a frown on his face. "You look ready to drop down any second now."

Bruce nodded a little, walking farther into the kitchen to sit on one of the stools with a sigh. The countertop was blessedly cold against his hands and he barely resisted the urge to rest his face against the smooth surface, distantly wondering when he stopped feeling cold. He turned his attention back to Jason, watching him as he continued working.

Things between them weren't as bad as they had once been and while he was glad to see Jason coming to the Manor without being dragged by his brothers- or so it seemed, he just wished Jason had decided to show up at a time when he didn't feel like he was drying.

"Alfred isn't home," He commented almost absently as he rubbed his forehead. "I don't think anyone else is here."

Dick and Damian were staying in Blüdhaven, Tim was off with the Titans, and Cass was still in Hong Kong. Stephanie and Barbara weren't likely to come if he was the only one here, so the Manor should be empty. Of course, he hadn't noticed Jason's arrival, so he couldn't be sure whether someone else had come in while he was asleep or not.

Jason put the wooden spoon down before turning to face him. "You're telling me I can only be here when there's someone to supervise me?"

The question sounded incredulous, with maybe a touch of amusement, but Bruce couldn't really trust his assessment right now. In any case, it still made his head snap up only to wince a second later at the pain caused by the movement.

"What? Of course not! I-" _'I just have no idea what you're doing here'_   Bruce thought but didn't voice it. He wasn't sure if it was his usual awkwardness to communicate verbally or Jason's need to rile him up what was causing _this_ , but he was in no mood to deal with it either way.

He kept his mouth shut and covered his eyes with a hand, hoping his lack of response would be enough to stop any conflict before it began.

"Here," Jason said after a moment, placing a teacup on the counter and sliding it careful toward him.

Bruce's sense of smell was long gone by now -along with most of his other senses, it seemed- so he peered into the cup to try to deduce what was in it.

"It's tea," Jason offered. "It should help with your throat."

Bruce blinked. He hadn't even noticed there was a kettle on the oven as well. "Thank you," He rasped, wrapping a hand around the warm cup.

Jason turned away without a word.

He took a few sips of the warm beverage, eyes closed as he enjoyed the soothing effect in his throat, even if it was tasteless. When he opened them again, Bruce found himself watching Jason's broad shoulders and the messy hair curling at the nape of his neck. He felt a pang in his chest, something that had nothing to do with his illness as he looked at the man that little boy he took off the streets had become. His little boy with the crooked grin and fire in his eyes. Like so many times before, he could do nothing but sent a silent 'thank you' to whatever deity had given him the opportunity to see him.

Bruce had to clear his throat before attempting to speak. "How are you?"

Jason snorted, looking over his shoulder. "You look like something out of a bad zombie movie and you're asking me that?"

He kept his eyes fixed on Jason, clearly waiting for an answer.

The boy rolled his eyes before turning back to the stove. "I'm a lot better than you right now, old man, but that's not saying much."

He grunted. It wasn't the answer he would have liked, but at least Jason hadn't ignored the question or thrown back an insult. Not a real one anyway.

"What are you making?" He asked when most of the tea was gone and he was getting sleepy. He grimaced when he touched his sweat damped hair. He really needed a shower even if the last thing he wanted was to move.

"Chicken noodle soup."

Bruce hummed a little, resting his head on his fist. The rest of his childern may not be the mess he was in the kitchen, but Jason was the only with any real culinary talent. With surprising clarity, he remembered standing in the doorway as he watched the small boy working alongside Alfred in this same kitchen years and years ago.

There was a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he asked, "Are you going to share?"

"Why should I?"

"Maybe because you're using my kitchen and my food to make it."

"Actually, I'm using Alfie's kitchen and his food."

Bruce opened his mouth to dryly remind him Alfred used _his_ money to buy that but was attacked by yet another coughing fit that lasted far too long and left him breathless. He ended it with a groan, cleaning his watery eyes with the back of his hand before reaching for his now lukewarm tea.

Jason was leaning against the counter with an unreadable expression on his face as he watched him. "Alfie probably wouldn't like it if I let you starve to death, though."

He only hummed in reply.

"And he wouldn't be happy at all about getting a call telling him you're in the hospital with pneumonia or something ridiculous like that because you were too stupid to take care of a simple cough."

"This is far from a simple cough, and I can take care of myself just fine."

The expression on Jason's face spoke volumes. "Have you taken anything yet?"

"I was going to do that now," He lied, looking down at his cup.

"Right," Jason snorted.

Bruce attempted to glare at the boy but give up a second later, rubbing a hand across his face. He didn't even had the energy to do that.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm gonna share some my delicious food with you and you're going to eat all of it." As Jason spoke, he moved to serve the warm soup into a bowl he pulled from a cupboard. "Then you're going to take the medicine I'm going to give you and you're going straight to bed- your actual bed after that. No complains and no sulking."

He met Bruce's eyes defiantly as he put the steaming bowl before him.

Bruce leveled him with a look, making no attempt to reach for the spoon he was holding out.

"Or," Jason said slowly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter without breaking eye contact. "I'm calling Alfred."

"You wouldn't."

"Are you freaking kidding me?! Of course I would!" The loud exclamation made Bruce wince a little. "Hearing Alfred chew you out like a little kid is like my favorite thing _ever._ The only reason I'm even giving you a choice right now is that I don't want to fuck up Alfie's vacations."

Jason wasn't bluffing, of that Bruce was certain. And while the call may not be enough to make Alfred fly back to Gotham, knowing Bruce was home alone sick would surely put a damper on what was supposed to be a trip for Alfred to rest and relax, and there was no way Bruce would allow that.

Bruce sighed, taking the spoon from Jason's hand and catching just a small glimpse of the smug look on the young man's face. No, Bruce wasn't going to fight him on this. Why should he when _his son_ was all but offering to look after him, for whatever reason.

As much as he hated having people fussing over him when he was sick or incapacitated, agreeing now would make Jason stay in the Manor with him for a bit longer and there was no way he was going to miss that.

"What?"

Bruce blinked, only then realizing he had been sitting there just watching Jason. "Nothing. Thank you for the soup."

Jason eyed him warily, but after a moment turned around to reach for the kettle. He not only refilled Bruce's teacup but got one for himself as well and sat down to drink it.

The corner of Bruce's lips curved softly as he watched him. If getting sick was what it took to get Jason to spend more than a few minutes in his presence, Bruce may be willing to go through it again. And again.

**Author's Note:**

> I just love it when Jason shows how much he still loves Bruce, okay? And the best way to do that is get one of them hurt and I love Bruce!whump, so there you have it. And yes, Jason found a sick Bruce passed out in the den and covered him with the blanket because he's a big softie. *nods* I hope you liked it! 
> 
> English is not my native language, so any tips or corrections are welcome.


End file.
